There Is No Spot On Earth
There is no spot on earth that ever became sacred until something danced there; maybe it was just an atom or two. Strange now the seriousness I see around the shrines of perfect saints whose feet once wept ecstatic tears as they moved upon the sun they saw beneath our every step. There is no place in existence that ever became sacred until something sang there, even be it just a molecule. That is enough. I hear they croon all the time. ~Hafiz; rendered by Daniel Ladinsky How lovely, the Earth and all it's inhabitants, our earthy bodies require and ask that we dance, play, break bread and enjoy one another. Sometimes, in spiritual traditions and even clouded by our past experience, we can think of our earthly selves, our personalities and all the human 'messiness' as apart from the spiritual realm. As though living and diving into experience creates a disconnect from what we experience in the quiet arenas of meditation and contemplation. But here, it is suggested to plant our feet, be fully present, and through that embodiment we span the physical and non-physical. Further, it is through direct connection with the earth that 'saints' take joy and pleasure. They 'move upon the sun they see beneath our every step.' We are here for the pleasure of being spiritual beings having a human experience, through learning, growth, and all of our physical senses mixing together in the great pot that the universe stirs inside of us. As we live, the ingredients we add to the stew, our lives, becomes refined. But we need to be adding to the pot, we need those ingredients to ferment and simmer. And I like to think that by adding such components, the saints and sages throughout our universe bow. They are master chefs and we, the apprentices. They are not asking us to 'be so serious' about all we do, just to show up, live the experience, add to the pot. They ask that we cook, sing, dance, pray. We make things holy by showing up, and they watch and dance with us where we lay our feet. There is nothing that is not sacred, in every act, if we really look deeply enough, there is some impetus of desire for something more, a creation of sort, however unrefined. We learn the lesson as we go. This may be difficult to see when we look upon cruelties that we glimpse or find around us, but perhaps from a larger perspective, it's all learning and growth at some level, however many years and even lifetimes it takes us to ferment the stew. As we simmer, tossing new ingredients in, even sometimes some bitter tastes, we learn. Stepping back far enough, each creation is a microcosm of yet another larger macrocosm. An artists painting, a meal, a gathering of friends, all creations within a lifetime, within many lifetimes. Eventually, developing into a rich patina of human experience. So, as Hafiz goes on to say in yet anther poem... 'Don't run and wash your hands if the Beloved ever offers something to you. He knows where they have been, out touching the holy, via His many forms. ~rendered by Daniel Ladinsky Show up, step in, have the experience, allow yourself to get a little messy. Learn from what you explore, and if your Beloved ever offers something to you....he knows what you have been up to...searching ever so diligently, albeit sometimes questionably, to create, to be in love, through our many forms.
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AuthorAs a person who is highly interested in the inner landscape through interaction with the external, I find it invaluable to express these experiences. Here, a collection of musings; experiments, potential truths, and ultimately, my unique pathway of creative learning and growth. Blog and website edited by scholar, literary enthusiast, horticulturist and friend Peter Dryden.
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